IKEA Monkey

Indiana Jones went on some crazy adventures — perhaps one too many. But one of his biggest challenges, must’ve been the time he courageously dined on a dessert of chilled monkey brains.

To help remind us of Indy’s heroism, Linda from Bubble and Sweet created the Monkey Brain Cake. Although the process of making a chilled monkey brain cake is an arduous one — it will be the perfect ending to your night of snake surprise and eye soup.

[link, via Neatorama]

[Photographs: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]

My temporary home in San Francisco's Mission district is known more for its abundance of tacos and burritos than its Salvadoran fare, but there's certainly plenty of it around, some of it quite good.

Where Mexico has its tacos, El Salvador has its pupusas. At El Salvador Restaurant, the pupusas are cheap, big, and made fresh by hand. Place an order, and a minute later you'll start hearing the rhythmic slapping as the lady in the kitchen starts flattening out a ball of corn masa stuffed with cheese and finely chopped chicharrones into a wide, flat disk before slipping it onto a hot griddle. Just like with good grilled cheese, the key here is low, slow heat so that the interior fillings melt completely just as the exterior becomes nicely toasted. Like wide, flat hot pockets, if you will, only much, much better.

Pre-formed pupusas have a tendency to be oily or stale on the exterior, but the ones here come out soft, pliant, nicely toasted, and completely grease-free—until you cut them open and unleash the pork and cheese within, that is (they're also available in a zucchini or rice-stuffed version). On the side you'll find a small bowl of lightly pickled cabbage curtido, and a bright tomato salsa. For five bucks, it's a pretty filling lunch.

About the author: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt is the Chief Creative Officer of Serious Eats where he likes to explore the science of home cooking in his weekly column The Food Lab. You can follow him at @thefoodlab on Twitter, or at The Food Lab on Facebook.

Apparently child labor laws do not extend to getting served. See what I did there?

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Writers love writing personal essays about leaving New York City but, mostly, women writers love writing personal essays about leaving New York City. Or so it sometimes seems.

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It's time once again to marvel at people who don't know how to handle the world:

Cry-Baby #1: Quin Woodward Pu

via Buzzfeed 

The incident: A man decided he no longer wanted to see a woman he had been on two dates with.

The appropriate response: Getting back on Tinder. 

The actual response: The woman screencapped explicit text messages the man had sent to her and forwarded them to his employer in an effort to get him fired. 

Quin Woodward Pu (pictured above), a 26-year-old aspiring writer from DC, recently met a guy at a bar. They exchanged contact details and arranged to meet up. They went for dinner and drinks. 

According to Quin, "We had relatively good chemistry, but then, I kinda have chemistry with pretty much everyone, because I really like talking to people and winning over complete strangers."

They decided to meet up again the following weekend and went for dinner again. Pleased with how these two dates had gone, Quin invited the guy to her birthday party.

Then tragedy struck. The guy sent Quin a message telling her that he wasn't interested in carrying on their relationship:

Hi. Listen I had fun on Sat but quite honestly I am in a state of flux right now and not really looking for a relationship. Sorry to be a downer before your birthday but I have no doubt you'll move on quickly as you are a funny, smart, cool girl! Good luck.

Speaking of the moment that she received this polite and reasonable text: on her blog, Quin said, "I was stunned into paralysis. I had no words–this never happens–and I just felt short of breath."

So she did what any reasonable, entitled, narcissistic egomaniac would do in her position: She tried to ruin the guy's life. This is the text she sent back to him (all sic):

"thanks for your consideration about ruining my bday. as a 25 year old with two books and a condo, the relationship i planned between us after two dates was to be the highlight of my life. though unsolicited and completely unrequited, i thought the taxpayer-funded sexts from your agency blackberry were sweet, but your executive committee may think the screenshots of your messages i sent to them are a little cheesy. obviously i am but 'a girl,' hysterical with emotions bound to fall in love with you after we spent a collective 20 hours together. actually, sorry; i'm a woman. a girl would be that nine your old you have back home, who will one day probably date a female-infantilizing, self-aggrandizing disaster like you. good luck, indeed."

So far, there hasn't been any update on whether or not the man's employers took any action as a result of the "sexts" Quin sent over. 

It should be noted that the two published books Quin refers to in her text as a measure of her success were self-published. And therefore do not count. 

Cry-Baby #2: The Chattanooga Housing Authority

The incident: A wheelchair-bound man scratched the walls of his Section 8 apartment with his wheelchair, because the apartment was too narrow for him to properly navigate. 

The appropriate response: For the housing authority to move the disabled man to a more suitable apartment.

The actual response: They are attempting to evict him, which will make him homeless. 

Four years ago, 51-year-old Jeffrey Henson was diagnosed with Cerebellar Degeneration, a diseases that affects the part of the brain which controls muscle coordination and balance.

It's hereditary and has already killed his brother and father. 

As a result of the disease, Jeffrey is confined to an electric wheelchair. He also has trouble talking. 

He lives in a Section 8 apartment in a public housing project called the Mary Walker Towers in Chattanooga, Tennessee.

The apartment has some handicap-accessible features, but is too narrow for Jeffrey's wheelchair to easily navigate. His chair has scraped the walls, doors, and door frames of the apartment as he's struggled to make his way around. Because of this, the Chattanooga Housing Authority sent Jeffrey an eviction notice, telling him that, due to the "extensive damage" he's caused to the property, he has to move out. 

Previously: A child molester who wants to go to a school versus a guy who murdered two dogs because he got fired

Winner: The dog killer!

@JLCT

In 1972, Rutgers University admitted its first women. Now, forty-one years later, the University has finally gotten around to changing the lyrics of the school's alma mater so it's not all about going to Rutgers and becoming a man because your dad told you to. Uh, yay? I guess?

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In his controversial interview on an Italian radio program earlier this week, president of pasta company Barilla said that the company would never use the image of a family headed by gay or lesbian parents in one of its ads. Why? “[W]e like the traditional family,” Barilla said. He invited customers to buy a different pasta brand if they disagree. “Challenge accepted,” said Bertolli, a worldwide brand owned by Unilever. Except in Italian.

Well, German. Bertolli Germany already got to work on social media, producing the graphic that you see above for their Facebook page. “Love and pasta for all,” they captioned it. (Mostly, I’m in love with the little pasta-shell dog.)

Here’s an actual Bertolli spot that aired on the LGBT-themed Logo cable network back in 2009:

Bertolli Makes the Most of Barilla Chairman’s Anti-Gay Comments [AdWeek]

PREVIOUSLY:
Barilla President Says Ads Will Never Feature Gay Families, Gay People Switch Pasta Brands

The answer is prostaglandins. These are the chemical signals girls' and women's bodies make and send to the uterus to tell it to contract, thus expelling the uterine lining at the end of the menstrual cycle. Prostaglandins aren't super picky about whom they talk to, however. If the body sends enough of them to the uterus, some stray prostaglandins will make it over to the bowel, which is located nearby. There, they also tell the bowel to contract, thus expelling… you know.

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The ladies of Pawnee, Indiana’s Parks and Rec department apparently do a lot of shopping online. Jezebel posted a story yesterday exposing just how expensive the clothes are that Aubrey Plaza, Rashida Jones, and Amy Poehler wear on the show, and while it’s not really surprising, it’s still a little sad. Jones’ Ann Perkins, for instance, has paid at least $4656 for her patterned blouses, and Plaza’s April Ludgate routinely spends $150 on tank tops, which is a lot for someone whose husband eats out of a Frisbee. Unsurprisingly, Poehler’s Leslie Knope spends the most on clothes, but, hey, maybe she makes good money as a city councilwoman. And living in Pawnee can’t be that expensive, right? And, hey, maybe the three women hit up their own preferred Rent-A-Swag type store that just hasn't been featured on the show yet. Or maybe TV ...

Look at these 29 puppies who are totally pooped out because you had a long day and you deserve puppies.

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Above is “David C.” the Twitter user known as @nerdslashgeek with a growing audience who I’ve been repeatedly asked recently if he is myself or Photo Boy. He is not. As for why people would ask that, it appears his tweets are awfully similar to posts on The Superficial. And before I get into this, I’ve ignored plagiarists/joke stealers in the past because it’s not worth the time, and a former “contemporary” had a nasty habit of going to DEFCON 1 if another person had similar words in their sentences like “a,” “and,” and “the.” Also, this Patton Oswalt “closed letter” on joke theft is a great guideline to misunderstandings that can occur in the comedy field. That being said, what follows below is some dude literally just copying and pasting sentences, word for word, that were another writer’s creative output honed by years of hard work. Albeit in pajama pants, but I at least deserve a ball tickling when you’re back there. It’s what separates us from the apes.

First let’s establish that “David C.” follows The Superficial, and I’ll be using lots of screencaps from here on out for when all of these get deleted:

And now let’s ease into a slightly innocent one from the point when I got tired of sifting through his timeline. I’m sure there are more further back but too much scrolling hurts my fing-fing.

Here’s The Superficial post from 9/11/13 at 1:06 PM EST titled “Alice Eve Alice Eve Alice Eve Alice Eve Alice Eve Alice Eve Alice Eve Alice Eve Alice Eve” where I say “Alice Eve” the whole post. Not exactly groundbreaking comedy, and this @nerdslashgeek tweet when isolated seems harmless enough:

That was sent four hours after The Superficial post at 5:10 PM EST. And just for the record, here’s The Superficial tweet generated from our RSS with a time stamp prior to the @nerdslashgeek tweet.

–

A couple days go by and no one’s noticed, so fuck it, let’s try it again. Here’s The Superficial post from 9/16/13 at 3:03 PM EST titled “Jaden Smith Told His 4 Million Twitter Followers To Drop Out of School.” Note the following excerpt:

If Everybody In The World Dropped Out Of School We Would Have A Much More Intelligent Society.

— Jaden Smith (@officialjaden) September 13, 2013

Or the south. You’d have the south.

And now @nerdslashgeek’s tweet with no credit to The Superficial which will be a given from here on out:

That was sent two hours after The Superficial post at 5:26 PM EST. And just for the record, here’s The Superficial tweet generated from our RSS with a time stamp prior to the @nerdslashgeek tweet.

–

And now there’s no turning back. Here’s The Superficial post from 9/16/13 at 9:36 AM EST titled “Calm Down, Justin Bieber Is The Perfect Robin.” Note the following text:

“I was actually on board with this because the movie’s supposed to be inspired by The Dark Knight Returns, and you know who the Robin was in The Dark Knight Returns? Carrie Kelley. A girl: [Photo of Frank Miller's Batman and Carrie Kelly Robin here.] They even have the same hair!”

And now @nerdslashgeek’s tweet:

That was sent 12 hours after The Superficial post at 8:57 PM EST. And just for the record, here’s The Superficial tweet generated from our RSS with a time stamp prior to the @nerdslashgeek tweet.

–

This one is my personal favorite because it’s not even a joke. It’s literally just me pointing out the Red Hood looked great in a fanfilm which @nerdslashgeek could’ve easily said himself by going, “Hey, Red Hood looks awesome.” I didn’t know sentences were that hard. Here’s The Superficial post from 9/17/13 at 9:48 AM EST and note the following text:

“It’s supposed to be in the tone of Nolan‘s trilogy, but botches that right off the bat with The Penguin and The Ventriloquist. In fact, the only reason for watching any of this is for the Red Hood which they fucking nailed.”

And here’s @nerdslashgeek’s tweet:

That was sent just under two hours after The Superficial post at 11:33 AM EST. And just for the record, here’s The Superficial tweet generated from our RSS with a time stamp prior to the @nerdslashgeek tweet.

–

Which brings us to today. Here’s The Superficial post from 9/23/13 at 2:33 PM titled “Here’s Christian Bale Wearing Val Kilmer’s Batsuit To Audition For ‘Batman Begins.’” Note the following text:

You’ll also notice Christopher Nolan taking a lot of care to find the right actor who can give off a certain energy while completely covered in rubber as opposed to the current strategy of, “Eh, just put Ben Affleck in it.”

And here’s @nerdslashgeek’s tweet:

That was sent one hour after The Superficial post at 3:09 PM EST. And just for the record, here’s The Superficial tweet generated from our RSS with a time stamp prior to the @nerdslashgeek tweet.

–

And the latest/last one. Here’s The Superficial post from 9/22/13 at 11:01 PM EST titled “Miley Cyrus Pasties Nipple Crying Kardashians Midget Ass Bikini Twerk.” Note the following text:

So here’s Miley Cyrus doing all those things plus interacting with the Kardashians because there is no Hannah anymore. Only Zuul.

And here’s @nerdslashgeek’s tweet:

That was sent 17 hours after The Superficial post at 4:39 PM EST. And just for the record, here’s The Superficial tweet generated from our RSS with a time stamp prior to the @nerdslashgeek tweet.

–

And now for the delicious irony part. Turns out “David C.” doesn’t like when he’s not credited:

No, I did not just lick my lips. Shut up.

Now, if you’re wondering why I went through all that tedium for just some guy on Twitter, @nerdslashgeek here is trying to launch a website with his “Twitter cred” that I’ve been informed also allegedly includes jokes stolen from my sister sites I Watch Stuff and Geekologie. And probably others, too, so if you’re in the geek/film blogging business, you should probably take a peek over at “David C.”‘s Twitter and see if anything looks familiar. And if you do, maybe just sue him because this took way too much time that I could’ve used trying to bang strippers in GTA like a healthy, productive adult. I should seriously talk to somebody.

UPDATE: There was only one way for this to end (NSFW).

UPDATE UPDATE: “I recommend you try another sport, like knitting!” in the comments thought the link in the previous update was going to be Jesse Spano’s warbling vagina instead of @nerdslashgeek’s deleted Twitter account, and in retrospect, he/she’s right, it should’ve been. Fixed.

UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE 9/30/13: Somebody apparently felt he only needed to be grounded for a week, and reactivated his account. Say hello, won’t you?

The difference between something handcrafted and something off of the assembly line is evident when you look at the foundations.

It’s a mother’s job, first and foremost, to make sure her daughter can stand on her own two feet. But, with the great strides feminism has made, floating is now an acceptable lifestyle choice too.

The original was found by Peter and submitted through our Facebook page.

The post Mom and Me: Handcrafted Touch appeared first on PSD : Photoshop Disasters .

All photos by Jo Stewart

Lots of folks fantasize about “getting away from it all,” but few actually put their money where their mouths are. Backpacking in Europe or Southeast Asia or fucking off to some tropical island for some guidebook-approved relaxation might be a nice change of pace, but the bottom line is you’re still surrounded by people and all the problems that come with them. If you curse society long enough, however, the universe will provide you with an escape route, should you want to take it—or at least it did in my case, when I was offered the opportunity to work on a yacht that was filming a documentary in Antarctica.

I immediately said yes, of course, imagining the majestic sweeps of ice and rock and sea, the killer whales swimming freely, the penguins frolicking in landscapes so picturesque they could be accompanied by Morgan Freeman’s narration. But the reality of living on the massive, isolated seventh continent is very different from the glacial fantasy. Yes, there’s otherworldly beauty but there’s also the odd, the cruel, and the outright terrifying things that would never be found in any travel brochure. Some days, the soundtrack to Antarctica is Sigur Rós, on others, it’s a wounded seal barking on a frigid rocky outcrop. Here are some details of my trip that won’t make it into any nature films.

Getting There

For many, the trek to Antarctica involves sailing from the southern tip of South America and crossing the Drake Passage, a.k.a., “the Drake,”  which is known for whipping up some of the roughest seas on the planet. Just for the record: I hate the Drake. Most travellers get to experience the passage from a comfy cruise ship with an icebreaker hull (still not exactly a picnic), but if you’re in a smaller working yacht, as I was, it’s a whole different kettle of krill. In storms, these yachts lurch, roll, and shake so violently that eating is futile given the inevitable seasickness, sleep is nearly impossible, and a simple task like dressing yourself is pure slapstick. Being surrounded by a churning, featureless gray-black monster that has no regard for your life is a sobering experience for a land dweller.

I was on a bunk with a porthole, so this was my average morning wake-up call:

While I’m personally not prone to anxious thinking, conditions here breed morbid fantasies: ominous fog banks, white-capped waves, freezing, face-shredding winds capable of knocking you off your feet with no warning. In weather like that, your access to medical treatment is limited and beyond your control—and when something like a broken leg could be deadly, thoughts of injury (and improvised surgeries inside a storm-tossed boat) are never far from your mind.

I also occasionally worried the ship would sink, fears that were no doubt exacerbated by the visible wrecks we passed:

They acted as a reminder about the dangers that lurk in the white wilderness and the knee-weakening risks taken by the badass seafarers of yesteryear—imagine navigating these waters without radar. Boats can capsize, burn, hit icebergs, or get lost. One yacht last year sank after hitting a whale. (After visiting abandoned whaling stations and seeing the rusted remnants of devices made to process blubber and whale parts, I understand why these giant sea mammals might not be too friendly towards ships.) The spooky, abandoned detritus includes more than just boats—wreckage of an Air New Zealand plane which crashed into Mount Erebus in 1979 is still visible. Despite extensive recovery efforts, most of the plane (and some of what remains of the passengers) are still wedged in the mountain, cryogenically laid to rest for an icy eternity.

The Beasts

Major props to this little guy for standing still while I took a photo, despite having half his guts ripped out by a leopard seal not too long before. Chinstrap penguins are accommodating like that, unlike their cousins the King Penguins. In Fortuna Bay, I witnessed a gang of them slap a baby fur seal before moving on as if nothing happened. No one takes care of business like the King Penguin mafia.

But don’t feel sorry for the fur seal. Considered the puppy dogs of the seal world, I found out they were more Cujo than Lassie when one of them came running straight at me, forcing me to run for the hills. They only look shy.

This guy, on the other hand, posed like a model who knew which angle was his best:

He looks sexy but dangerous, doesn't he? The James Dean of seals. 

The Churches

Obviously whoever built Trinity Church on King George Island hadn’t heard the old sailor’s adage, “Below 50 degrees south there is no law; below 60 degrees south there is no God.” This little slice of Russian Orthodoxy is maintained by a priest year-round, and he does such a good job it even has a church-like smell—that unmistakable potpourri of candles, incense, guilt, and shame. That’s an impressive feat given the funk of penguin vomit and seal excrement almost constantly hanging in the air in Antartica.

It’s a lovely place of worship, but it would also be the perfect spot to film The Omen on Ice.

The Signs

There are signs everywhere. It’s an Antarctic joke that gets played out over and over in different languages—well, maybe it’s not so much a “joke” as it is a cruel reminder that you are a long ways away from anywhere that resembles home.

The Slaughter

Aww… Cute fur seals again! In the background, however, you’ll notice what look suspiciously like bloated reindeer corpses. South Georgia Island used to be home to thousands of transplanted reindeer that constituted the southernmost herd in the world. “Used to” being the operative words, because a reindeer eradication program has ended the non-native beasts' reign—herders have been shipped in to get rid of them, and they will keep going until they have slaughtered every last Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, and Blitzen on the island.

The Whaling Stations

With its ramshackle buildings, sheds, and doors leading into black holes, the whaling settlement of Grytviken is the perfect place for an ill-fated game of hide-and-seek. It also features a creepy church and a creepy cemetery that is the final resting place of some of Antarctica’s most intrepid explorers. Also chains:

Hollywood producers take note: It’s a pain to get to, but it ticks every box for your next slasher/torture porn franchise.  

The Ice

There are towering behemoths of ancient ice in Antarctica, but there are also football fields of floating chunks that make sailing a real pain. The outboard motor on our (inflatable) zodiac boat stopped working a few times thanks to unprecedented amounts of sea ice present during the last Antarctic summer—it was kind of like an old blender labouring under the strain of being forced to mix one too many margaritas.  

The Bases

Much respect is due to the upstanding people of Poland’s Arctowski Research Station on King George Island. While the fancy folk on McMurdo are living it up with soft-serve ice cream machines and hydroponic vegetables, these guys are pumping iron Dolph Lundgren-style in a Cold-War-era gym, complete with some very old instructional posters:

What’s surprising is that base life is remarkably similar to life elsewhere. Of course, there’s desperation and isolation, but it’s not so much more than you’d find in any nightclub in any city in the world. Base-dwellers display the same behaviors people do elsewhere when they have time to kill: vodka-drinking contests worthy of frat houses, arguments over the music selection that inevitably turn into arm-wrestling contests.

Yes, there are stories of people going nuts, and these are told and retold until they achieve the status of legend. Here’s one: According to Antarctic folklore, a doctor was looking forward to going home after a long stint on an Argentine base. When the replacement crew arrived, however he was told that there was no doctor to replace him, which meant that he wouldn’t be going home for another year. So he did what any upstanding member of the medical fraternity would do and burned the base down.

If that sounds a bit grim, then spare a thought for the men who used to work on the British base known as Port Lockroy, or “Base A.” Times were tough down there in the 1950s. This is an example of Antarctic porn from the era:

I believe that is meant to be Jayne Mansfield. And this is all that’s left of Elizabeth Taylor:

(In fairness, it’s still a better rendition of her than Lindsay Lohan’s turn in the made-for-TV turkey, Liz & Dick.)

The Payoff

Antarctica is known as a place of extremes: extreme temperatures, extreme isolation, extreme people. But it’s also a place of extreme emotion. The lows are subterranean—sometimes it feels like you’ve arrived at the watery gates of hell. But the highs are stratospheric. There’s no better continent for a gin and tonic on ice(berg) and a barbecue on the back of the boat.

More journeys to strange places:

I Kayaked to New York City's Abandoned North Brother Island

The Magician's Retreat

Afghanistan's Great Wall of Bones

It's time, once again, to marvel at some people who don't know how to deal with the problems the world throws at them.

Cry-Baby #1: Linda Lusk

NY Daily News via Reddit

The incident: A woman found out that she may be banned from attending her daughter's high school graduation because she had previously been convicted of molesting a 14-year-old boy. 

The appropriate response: Nothing. Maybe not molesting children if you're the type of person that's super into going to events where a lot of them will be present. 

The actual response: She intends to go to the graduation anyway, even if it means getting arrested. 

Back in 2010, Linda Lusk, a 52-year-old mother of five, was charged with having sexual intercourse with her daughter's 14-year-old boyfriend, Bubba. 

According to Bubba, Linda invited him over to her house one lunch time after exchanging sexual texts with him. He says that she led him to a bedroom, undressed him, and performed oral sex on him. 

Initially Linda denied the accusations, saying that she only "accidentally grazed" Bubba's genitals. Though she later agreed to plead guilty after being told by prosecutors that they had enough evidence to convict her. 

She was charged with third-degree child molestation, and served two months of a 90-day sentence. 

Her daughter Karlie is set to graduate at the end of this school year. Understandably, Karlie's school has a ban on convicted sex offenders attending their events.

In the past, Linda has tried to attend a baseball game at the school, but was denied permission. 

Linda asked the school for permission to attend the graduation ceremony. The school told ABC that they have yet to decide if Linda would be allowed in or not. 

Linda said she will attend regardless of what the school decides, "There is no way that they're going to keep me. I mean, even if I get arrested,” Linda told ABC's 20/20. “I am going to my daughter’s graduation."

Despite pleading guilty, Linda places the blame of what she did firmly on her victim. In the interview with 20/20, she said, "The child appeared to need my help and attention, and I was depressed and unaware that I was being used and manipulated until it was too late." In another interview, she said of the boy she molested, "I don’t think he’s ever accepted responsibility for what he did."

Dallas Observer via Reddit/image via

The incident: A man was fired from his job as a caretaker.

The appropriate response: Nothing, if your dismissal was warranted. Seeking legal help if you feel you were unjustly terminated. 

The actual response: The fired man slit the throats of his former employer's dogs. 

William Skyler Leak (pictured above) was fired from his job as a caretaker at a stable in Fort Worth, Texas last August. 

According to a spokeswoman for Fort Worth Police, William was let go because "the owner didn't like his work performance."

William was told to clear out the on-site mobile home he'd been living in and leave. William refused, and ended up squatting in the trailer for a month until the owner was able to get a court order forcing him out. 

The next night William returned to his former workplace and broke in. 

Once inside, he slit the throats of two border collies. He stuck a note to a bulletin board inside the stable in which he called the double dog murder "absolutely beautiful."

"The sweet surrender as they looked into my eyes," the note read, "It was breathtaking."

The note ended with a warning to his former employer, “f you ever try to find me, you will be in the same situation as your dogs.”

Need some bed linens that truly scream serenity, luxury, and receding hairlines? Look no further than one Amazon seller’s selection of eight different Nicolas Cage-themed pillowcases. There’s biker Cage, thoughtful Cage, fan art Cage, Cage over sketchy text of his own name, and, best of all, fiery Season Of The Witch Cage. Each pillowcase is made of a pure, luxurious poly-cotton blend fit for Superman, and fits a standard 20-inch by 30-inch pillow.

For those wavering on whether to purchase a Cagecase, check out the Amazon user reviews for some of the products. One delighted sleeper, for instance, says he’s had perfect sleep since using the case, and that “the first night [he] dreamt of stealing the Declaration of Independence then stopped rogue Marines from dropping poison gas on a sporting complex.” The very next night he, “dreamy [he] was a sorcerer, then foiled the plans of ...

Most people don’t want to admit they eat at Golden Corral, despite the fact that it has an undeniably dazzling array of food—enough to satisfy the secret cravings and particularities of any sort of eater. Below, we’ve cataloged some plate arrangements put together by some of the most famous Golden Corral regulars.

Daniel Day-Lewis

Daniel Day-Lewis builds meals, structurally, beginning with children’s pizza. Released from the cashier, red plastic cup of Sierra Mist in hand, Day-Lewis refuses to sit at the table with his family until he overtakes the Pizza Korner of the buffet. Eyes glittering—pooling, perhaps—knees jigging up lightly in place almost like a cat kneading brainlessly and inappropriately on a doughy cat-dad’s belly as he lays tasteless pizza into log-cabin-honest foundations for ‘toppings’ in what he believes are avant-garde flavor profiles honed after decades of research at Golden Corral, or, sometimes, granted by God in moments of private epiphany.

John Kerry

John Kerry can’t help himself. Look at all this shit! This place is fun! John Kerry gets so worked up just standing near the troughs he can’t help but staring at all the choices, gape-mouthed, gripping his plate so hard sometimes it breaks in half. Then, once he gets his food, chosen impulsively but intuitively from the array using his fingers instead of the tongs, back at the table he finds it hard to even eat what he’s gathered. He sits and grins and waits and thinks and sits on his hands and rubs his sock-y feets together under the table. (“There will be no wearing of the shoes tonight, sir!” he tells his wife on the way to dinner. “You know, like Asia.”) What a feeling! What a world!

Danny DeVito

Danny DeVito, as it is well known, only eats beige or off-white foods. His young and inexperienced Buffet Runner was fired for including this irritatingly chalk-yellow egg center on his fourth plate and dismissed with a grand, magnanimous but unknown gesture, the sort upon which DeVito has built an empire.

Kanye West

Kanye West gets a plate of cake with ice cream and sits and watches that shit melt into a puddle. Once it has, he signals for the waiter to come over and get this fucking plate out of his face. Then he goes into the bathroom and washes his hands and face with the hottest water they’ve got while looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. Then he goes back out and does it again. Two hours, 17 cakes, and 80 gallons of ice cream later, he leaves a $30,000 tip in cash.

Cat Power

Chan Marshall of Cat Power scalps the awful and bland plaques of pastry off of the peach cobbler because they are the closest food equivalent she can find to the Void. She picks mournfully at the plaques until her date drops his fork and asks in a stern whisper why she must make her illnesses so ‘showy’ and ‘disruptive’ to everyone around her, which finally allows her to feel at home.

Willie Nelson

Willie Nelson can’t say why he feels compelled to pull over and go in any time he sees a sign for Golden Corral, but it’s become a problem. He’s missed doctors’ appointments, weddings, concerts… always suddenly finding himself instead seated there in the strange yellow light of a dining establishment where he doesn’t even care to eat. Once he’s seated, though, he finds he can’t bring himself to get up until they’re closing, pushed out again with an empty stomach into the edgeless night. It never fails that by the end of his stay he’s been offered dozens of refills on his water, resulting in new full glasses to match the ones he’s yet to drink, each of which Willie Nelson thanks his server kindly, while inside he’s all shrieking.

Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman is only interested in the cotton candy. His wife implores him to fill a plate with some actual dinner, a command he pretends to not understand. The zitty boy assigned to tend the dessert bar, whipping new paper cones around the cotton candy machine with powerful sloppiness, pretends to not hear Walt Whitman as he asks what else can be stuck into the machine and wound with this terrific gossamer netting.

Joel Osteen

Joel Osteen eats quietly, without utensils, facing a wall. His family waits outside in the minivan and will have to eat whatever they can find.

Martha Stewart

Martha Stewart eats alone at Golden Corral. She scoops clam chowder decorously into a tiny melamine bowl, then dumps the bowl upon her toast, fries, and red Jell-O and tops it with fried chicken livers. She knows the hot, cellulitey chowder will melt the Jell-O and only this, of all food combinations, will best mimic the slop she saw slipping down the tube her surgeon used during her last liposuction, a marbled pattern of whites and reds and pinks that she felt more proud of having created than anything else, more than any Perfect Lemon Rosemary Roasted Chicken or Winter Glitter Rick Rack Bunting she’s ever made, art made out of her very body, a pattern manifested wholly of her spirit made flesh, and which she hunts for again so painfully to replenish, to eat and keep in her, this one gorgeous thing.

R. Kelly

R. Kelly likes salad toppings. Just the ones that look clean, though, not like somebody’s ratty ass baby’s been digging around in it and whatnot. Beets are good as hell. R. Kelly likes seven peas only, which he counts out with a pair of gold tweezers he has made special with the date stamped on it whenever he goes to the buffet. Salad dressing must be applied sparingly, as that shit will fuck your abs up, but R. Kelly won’t even use what little appears on this plate because it expanded by chance into the sunflower seeds, and R. Kelly feels when two foods touch, that’s nasty. R. Kelly will hide the uneaten seeds in a napkin because he doesn’t want to be thought of as wasteful, or as a prude. The ham he doesn’t eat. R. Kelly takes the ham home in a bag and adds it to his ham collection.

David Lynch

David Lynch takes a blue plate. He puts the plate back. He picks the plate up again and looks at it with his reading glasses on. He puts the plate back and takes a red plate. He decides the red is right. He goes over to the steak station where a guy in a white coat asks him how he wants his steak cooked. David Lynch asks if he can just have a raw piece of the meat. The cook says that’s not allowed. David Lynch asks why that’s not allowed. The cook explains if a customer gets sick, that’s Golden Corral’s ass. I’m not going to eat the steak, David Lynch says. I just want to hold it. Come on, man, the cook says. What, haven’t you ever held a steak in public? David Lynch asks. He harrumphs and adjusts his tie. He asks loudly if there’s any justice in this world. No one answers. People are looking at him. David Lynch says OK he supposes he’ll just have to take the motherfucking steak cooked fucking all the way well done. He stands there staring hard at the side of the cook’s head waiting while the cook presses the steak hard against the grill to sear it extra, in spite. He plops the steak on David Lynch’s plate. David Lynch thanks the cook and walks with the steak held out before him over to the nearest trash can, drops the steak in it. He then walks and lingers for some time in front of the buffet area behind the other people dishing out their foods, watching who takes what. When the line clears, he steps up and takes a single taco salad shell out of a container full of shells, carefully selecting one well-buried underneath a pile of similar others, a very certain shell. He puts the shell on the steak plate still graced with the smatterings of meat juices. He carries the taco shell back to his table and sits with it pouting, whispering to the taco salad shell.

Axl Rose

Axl Rose trusts only corn and mini corn.

Previously by Blake Butler - If You Build the Code, Your Computer Will Write the Novel

@blakebutler

ATTENTION. ATTENTION. ATTENTION. PLEASE SIT DOWN IN FRONT OF YOUR COMPUTER SCREENS AND CLOSE ALL OTHER WINDOWS. IF YOU MUST KEEP OTHER TABS OPEN, PLEASE DRAG THIS TAB INTO ITS OWN WINDOW AND MINIMIZE THE BROWSER WINDOW THAT CONTAINS YOUR OTHER TABS. ATTENTION. THIS VIDEO DESERVES AND DEMANDS YOUR FULL ATTENTION. PLEASE SWALLOW ALL LUNCH THAT MAY BE IN YOUR MOUTH. PLEASE SWALLOW ALL COFFEE OR WATER OR OTHER BEVERAGE THAT MIGHT BE IN YOUR MOUTH. PUT YOUR LUNCH OR BEVERAGE TO THE SIDE. TAKE A DEEP BREATH. GET READY TO EXPERIENCE A PARTICULARLY LARGE AMOUNT OF JOY. PREPARE YOURSELF FOR THE TASK OF SHARING A VIDEO WITH EVERYONE CURRENTLY ON YOUR GCHAT LIST OR OTHER LISTS. TAKE ONE MORE DEEP BREATH. ATTENTION. YOU ARE NOW READY TO EXPERIENCE THIS VIDEO FOR JUNGLE’S “PLATOON,” WHICH FEATURES THE BREAKDANCING OF AN INTENSELY PERFECT CHILD. THANK YOU. (ALERT OVER.)

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Fall is Granny Smith season over at my parent’s house; their trees are so heavy with apples my father has to prop up the branches with long two by fours to keep them from breaking. We also are blessed with a bounty of figs from the fig tree, with which my mother often makes a particularly wonderful fig jam (an easy recipe that cooks up in about 15 minutes, I recommend it!). So when I saw this recipe for an apple and gruyere grilled cheese panini with fig jam in my friend Kathy Strahs’ fabulous new cookbook, The Ultimate Panini Press Cookbook, I couldn’t wait to give it a go. It’s sort of a no-brainer actually. Granny Smith apples, gruyere cheese, figs? They belong together. I just never would have thought to put them together in a grilled cheese sandwich. Oh. My. Gosh. Crazy good!

Continue reading "Gruyere, Apple, and Fig Jam Panini" »

“Oh, I don’t know. I love The Walking Dead, but it’s just like — what is there to dress up as if you love The Walking Dead and still want to be sexy I mean sassy? Sexy zombie? Oh, please, I was a sexy zombie last year! That’s why I’m glad SpiritHalloween.com created this sassy Grimes costume specifically for girls like me. Girls who want sexy I mean sassy, but don’t want to sacrifice referencing one of their favorite AMC dramas. Best costume contests, here I come!” -You, hopes SpiritHalloween.com! Full costume after the jump.

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How was your day today? Was it your wedding day at the Stoke Park Hotel in Buckinghamshire, the very same hotel where Brad Pitt had a meeting while on location for his upcoming movie Fury? And did your friends run up to you and tell you that Brad Pitt was at the bar? And did you say, as retold to E! Online:

“I said to him, ‘Yeah right, and he said, ‘No really, he is in the bar!’ We went through to the private bar…I couldn’t see anything, but could hear our friend who had a camera ask if the newlyweds could have a picture,” she says. “I heard an American accent say, ‘Sure’…I walked through into another part if the bar and came face to face with Brad!”

“I actually gasped and said to myself, ‘Oh my god, it really is you!’ He congratulated us on our wedding said I looked great in my dress, shook our hands and said to pose for a picture. He was very accommodating,” she gushes before adding:

“Unfortunately I didn’t get a kiss from him!”

Hahahah. At the very least, no matter how your day is going, you can be grateful that you are not the groom at a wedding at which Brad Pitt shows up. Sure, your wife will be joking when she says she wishes she had gotten a kiss from him, but will she really be? REALLY? You could never be sure. But, how is your day going, though? Bad? Brad? Tell meeee!

How sweet it is. No, but really. It’s sweet.

Either you or someone you know has once upon a time, I’m willing to bet, said something along the lines of “I’m really trying to watch my sugar intake this week.” If that’s the route you want to go, more power to ya, healthy high fives and all of that. But you should know, there are more sugary things than a glazed Krispy Kreme doughnut, and they will not aid you in your sugar showdown, should you choose to consume them.

Just to be clear — this is just about sugar. There are many other nutritional pros and cons to consider when selecting your snack/drink/meal of choice. But that being said, Mother Jones has quite a list of foods you may not have associated with high sugar content, at least in relation to doughnuts. Mmm, doughnuts. Check out the five dining options below and the entire lineup here.

1. Yoplait Original Yogurt: 27 grams of sugar = 2.7 Krispy Kreme doughnuts
This just makes me think of those commercials where people are envisioning a sugary dessert but then satisfying that craving with a yogurt. If it’s sugar you seek, that will apparently work.

2. Luna bar: 11 grams of sugar = 1.1 Krispy Kreme doughnuts
“I am going to eat a healthy health food bar thing,” you might think, while patting yourself on the back. Just be sure you know that these kinds of bars are often meal replacement bars, and not a free pass devoid of any sugar/calories.

3. 20 oz VitaminWater: 33 grams of sugar = 3.3 Krispy Kreme doughnuts
Drinkable sugar or gnoshable doughnuts? I’m so confused as to where I should be sugaring up now.

But hey, it isn’t just the sweet stuff you should take into consideration. There are plenty of savory options that can still pack a sugary punch.

4. California Pizza Kitchen Thai Chicken Salad: 45 grams of sugar = 4.5 Krispy Kreme doughnuts.
Salad? Sugar? Yes. It can happen. Be aware.

5. Subway 6″ Sweet Onion Teriyaki Chicken Sandwich: 17 grams of sugar = 1.7 Krispy Kreme doughnuts
Hmm, a sandwich or a doughnut? The choice is yours to make but it seems the word “sweet” isn’t just a bit of affection here.

Again, this isn’t advocating or slamming sugar — there are plenty of other reasons to choose one food over another, depending on what you want to get out of your edibles. It’s just good to know more about the choices you make.